to do. Should I call them over?’
‘Sure,’ I said, craning toward the bar area up front. ‘Which two are they?’
‘See there in the middle? Near the beer taps? The big guy is Hymie Gore. All muscle. Even between the ears. But he moves fast. The thin, twitchy guy they call the Holy Ghost. Nobody knows his real name. Just the Holy Ghost. He’s a shadow; now you see him, now you don’t. Both of them have sheets, but nothing recent. I’ll go get ‘em.’
He slid out of the booth, headed toward the bar.
‘Hymie Gore and the Holy Ghost,’ Dick Fleming said. ‘Enough realism for you, Jannie?’
‘I’d never use it in a book,’ I said. ‘Who’d believe it?’
Donohue brought the two men back to our booth. They were both carrying their beers. The Holy Ghost slid in next to Black Jack. Hymie Gore pulled up a chair and sat at the end of the table. He slopped over the seat. No introductions were made. We all smiled at one another and made polite small talk: the weather, the crime rate in New York, where to get a really decent plate of ribs. The waitress came over and Donohue ordered vodkas for all of us. I knew who’d bounce for the drinks.
Hymie Gore — a name so improbable that even Brick Wall would never use it — was a tell-me-about-the- rabbits-George type of guy: big, hulking, with a forehead so low that his bristly hair seemed to end in eyebrows. When his drink came, he folded his fist around the glass and it disappeared. He had a surprisingly high-pitched, wispy voice, like a tuppenny whistle, and he belched continually — little rumbling burps after which he’d tap his lips with a huge, broken knuckle and say. “Scuse.’
The Holy Ghost grinned, grinned, grinned. Either he was growing a beard or he hadn’t shaved in three days. His face looked like those fuzzy photographs you see with the captions ‘Is this the true shroud of Christ?’ He couldn’t keep his hands or feet still: always tapping, tapping. I thought he was on something. He was, but I didn’t find out until later what it was. Relatively innocent — he drank about twenty cups of black coffee a day.
Donohue waited until the waitress was out of earshot. Then he said to the two men:
‘What we got here is a jewelry store. Very fancy. Mucho dinero. We got it worked out how to get it before it opens. Like nine in the morning. No B and E. Legit. No customers. The manager, three salesmen, two guys who do repairs. Maybe a porter, an old geezer.’
‘Silent alarms?’ the Holy Ghost asked in his hoarse voice. He was half Hymie Gore’s heft, and had a voice twice as low.
‘Sure,’ Donohue said. ‘What else? But no armed guard, no TV cameras. We go in when the shutters are still down. Dig? The place hasn’t opened for business yet? So what cop is going to look in? The stones are up front in showcases and in a back room where the safe is. A piece of cake.’
‘Yeah,’ Hymie Gore squeaked. ‘The last piece of cake I went for cost me three-to-five.’
‘I’m telling you,’ Donohue said. ‘Can’t miss.’
‘The five of us?’ the Holy Ghost wanted to know.
‘No,’ I said. ‘Two more. Maybe three. But not right away. Pick up help when we’re ready to hit. But we got a lot to do, and a month to do it in.’
‘What’s the split?’ the Holy Ghost rasped.
‘To be negotiated,’ Donohue said, ‘if you decide to come in.’
‘Negotiated,’ Hymie Gore said wonderingly.’What does that mean?’
‘I want ten,’ the Holy Ghost said.
‘Ten what?’ Fleming said.
‘Percent — of the take.’
I looked at Donohue. He gave me a brief nod.
‘All right,’ I said. ‘Ten percent. For each of you. But off the net. Expenses come off the top.’
‘That’s fair,’ Donohue said.
‘Yeah,’ the Holy Ghost said hoarsely. ‘Who’s running the show?’
‘I am,’ I said.
‘You? A lady?’
‘That’s right.’
‘She’s okay,’ Donohue told the heavies. ‘I’m with her.’
‘Want to think it over?’ Fleming asked them.
‘I already did,’ the Holy Ghost said. ‘It’s before Christmas?’
‘About two weeks before,’ Fleming said.
‘Good. I got a lot of gifts to buy. I’m in. You, Hymie?’
‘What?’ the big man said dazedly. ‘Oh. Yeah. Sure. We should carry things?’
‘Of course,’ Donohue said. ‘You got one?’
The giant considered carefully.
‘I can get,’ he said finally.
‘Good,’ I said. ‘Now here’s what we’ve got….’
‘I like it,’ the Ghost said after I finished. ‘Especially the cleaning truck angle. That’s cute.’
‘Yeah,’ Gore said. ‘That’s cute.’
‘Like Bea said,’ Donohue told them, ‘we’ll need maybe two, three more guys, so keep your eyes peeled for some hard cases. Maybe we’ll pick up a car the night before we hit. Nothing flashy. We’ll ditch it right after the take. It should be a four-door with some power under the hood. Also, we’ll need a place we can go to later. A garage would be best. Where we can pull in, unload, switch cars. We’ll leave the stolen heap and the van there. We can end up at the Harding. You could waltz into that place carrying the White House and no one would say “Boo.” Also, we got to figure how to get coveralls for all of us from the cleaning service. I got an idea on that. Also, we should think of maybe like a diversion. Something happening, say, five blocks away the time we hit. Maybe a call to the cops that a
bomb’s been planted. Or maybe a real smoke bomb. Hell, we could blow up a mailbox. Some such shit. Just to keep the local blues busy.’
I looked at him in admiration. I hadn’t even
‘Also,’ I said, trying to prove I really was the boss lady, ‘we’ll need masks or stockings. Something to hide our faces. Tape, rope, gags for the cleaning helper and the people inside the store.’
‘A peteman?’ the Holy Ghost said. ‘In case that safe is locked?’
Donohue looked at me.
‘No,’ I said definitely. ‘If it’s locked we won’t have time to blow it. Or drill. And we don’t want the noise and can’t carry the equipment it’d take. There’s plenty in those showcases. All we need is a hammer and a bag.’
‘That’s lovely,’ the Holy Ghost said, tapping away frantically with fingers and feet. ‘A hammer and a bag. I love that.’
‘Yeah,’ Hymie Gore said. ‘Lovely.’
‘Will you take your share in rocks?’ Donohue asked them.
‘What?’ Fleming said quickly, i don’t follow.’
‘We’ll have to fence the stuff,’ Donohue explained. ‘Or make a deal with the insurance company. That’ll take time. Weeks probably. Maybe longer. And the boys want the cash for Christmas. Will you guys take some of the ice as your cut? Fence it yourselves? Faster bucks. You take, say, a couple of nice rings, a necklace. Whatever. Then you don’t have to wait until the whole shmear is sold. You got your split right away.’
‘Yeah,’ the Holy Ghost croaked. ‘That sounds good. I’ll take some of the rocks.’
‘Yeah,’ Hymie Gore said, nodding violently. ‘That sounds good. Me too.’
‘Fine,’ Black Jack said. ‘This is going to be a big one. Glad you boys will be with us. I’ll be in touch.’
As if he had given them a command, they drained their glasses, rose to their feet and, nodding to me, shambled out of Fangio’s. We watched them go.
‘What do you think?’ Donohue asked.
‘They’ll do,’ Dick Fleming said in what I now recognized as his Big Caper voice.
‘Jack,’ I said, ‘what was that business of paying them off with part of the loot? With actual stones?’
He stared at me.
‘Don’t you get it?’ he said. ‘I told you these guys were mutts. Pay them off in stolen property, and before you know it they’ll be trying to hock it or peddling the stuff in every bar on Broadway, including right here in Fangio’s. No
